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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105031">Waiting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, M/M, alex has a shitty boyfriend, i didnt finish this one, magnus pretends to be alexs boy friend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:02:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex is waiting for her boyfriend and Magnus swoops in and annoys her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Magnus Chase &amp; Alex Fierro, Magnus Chase/Alex Fierro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Waiting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex P.O.V.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I was waiting for Adrian, again. This was the fourth time he had skipped a date with me, but I was not really allowed to get mad at him, he is a doctor, he saves lives. A few dates are not the same as a few people's lives. That was mentality at 19:15, when my boyfriend was half an hour late. Now (at 20:23) he was over an hour late and all I wanted to do was go home, back to my potteries and paintings. My happy place. I could feel the old couple in the corner staring at me with sympathy. I knew the waitress was going to come up, asking if I wanted anything. The only thing I wanted was to have my Adrian back. He had changed ever since he got the job at the clinic. No more forehead kisses. No more unnecessary hugs. No more public displays of affection at all. He did not give one about us anymore.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, babe, I'm sorry I'm so late. Boss needed me at the lab," Well, someone's boyfriend gave one. "Babe," A pale freckled hand was in front of my face. The hand was attached to a blond dude with grey eyes accompanied by the sweetest smile. His locks hung around his shoulders. He took a step towards me, in a quiet whisper he told me. "I saw that you were being stood up, I'll stay if you want." I did want. I wanted the family of four with the crying baby to stop looking at me as they paused their eating of their chocolate sundaes. All I could was nod. His voice was the way I felt when people compliment me. I know that does not make any sense at all, yet it was the only thing that came to mind. Would this mystery man ever compliment me? No, no, no, my boyfriend is Adrian. This blondie is just helping me out. "I'm Magnus Chase. How was your day?" His fingers danced around the table. You know what, I will humour him. He seems interesting enough.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Alex Fierro. Good, I finished a few pots today. You?" Magnus Chase. That is who I would tell the police tried to kidnap me.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"If you must know, my day was not one of the good ones, but yours seems rather interesting," The blond gentleman leant back in his chair. He was obviously not in the mood to talk about it. Unfortunately for him, I was.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"No. If you don't tell me about your day, I won't tell you about mine," I shot back, folding my arms across my chest. My torso was coated in hot pink silk top with a high-rise sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. Magnus' was clothed in a dark green military style shirt. The restaurant was in was one of high-end ones with lights in glass jars; I kind of liked it. When I was growing up, I had everything against being the norm, now I understand that everyone is different, and liking what other people like was never inherently bad.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Fine, you aren't going to like it," He warned, head bowed. "I work as a forensic anthropologist and today was my first time dissecting a child's body," {A/N My head canon is that Magnus works with dead bodies and has very morbid interests} I stared at him, wondering how many horrors those cloudy grey eyes of his had seen. For his sake and my own, I hoped that there were only a few.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Are you okay?" Before I could stop myself, my tawny hands were on his cream ones. Never in my life had I seen a corpse. I have nearly sent multiple people to that state, fortunately for them, I have the learnt the art of self-control.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, just a little unsettling," He replied, forcing a smile onto those watermelon pink lips of his. His hands fell to his sides. "So, what do you enjoy doing in your spare time?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I opened my mouth to carry on our conversation but was interrupted by a waitress whose name tag that read Aaliyah. Aaliyah had skin the colour of elm, coiled black hair that was dyed electric blue at the ends; I desperately wanted to draw her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What can I get you two?" Her voice was low. She was staring at her chipped nails (they were the same shade as her hair). Reminding me of a science lesson I had when I was in middle school. The more vibrations your vocal cords could handle, the higher you could sing. Magnus gazed at me, asking something. What he was trying to say, I had no idea.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You ready to order, sweetheart?" Babe I could deal with. Sweetheart I could not. I felt my ears burn. Not wanting to be reminded that someone who was practically a stranger had just called me sweetheart, I turned to the waitress.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"We're not ready yet. I'm sorry," I smiled politely at Aaliyah. She stalked off to another table just out of my eyesight.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-&amp;-</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You know, no one's ever called me sweetheart before. I'm not sure whether I like it or not," The waitress had left our table about a second or two ago, so, now it was the time for teasing. I leant forward, elbows on the table, hands on my cheeks. The wooden surface was covered in a blue and white gingham linen cloth.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Do you want me to call you that again, sweetheart?" He was now in the same position as me, with mischievous glint in his eyes and his smile. It hit me, like a brick, how beautiful Magnus was. The blond did not just have grey eyes. He had eyes of the cobblestone of the road you played on as a child, the eyes of a ferocious yet dark sea, the eyes of a gravestone. Magnus had eyes that saw through your very soul as if it were as easy as eating a sandwich. His daffodil locks were the sun light flitting through my window on a Sunday morning, they were the fire of scented candle with an idiotic name, they were the golden glitter that I had worn on my eyelids the first time I went out in girl mode. Everything about him was selcouth, exquisite, cryptic.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Are you sure you want to challenge me, darlin'?" The last word came out in a heavy southern drawl, quite a change from my powerful Boston accent. Fluttering my two-toned eyes, I shuffled my body even further on dinner table. This was on.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Absolutely, gorgeous," He winked at me, pushing himself closer to me, before dissolving into a puddle of giggles against the back of his chair. Magnus' hair gambolled around his face, as if it were a halo, his body relaxed, his features held a stunning smile that would haunt me every single day if I did not gaze upon it again. He must have been Edward Cullen because he sparkled in the sheen of the restaurant. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to protect him from every single horror. I wanted him to be happy, like this whenever he could. No. I love Adrian. And Magnus probably has a nice girlfriend already. I have to. I don't have to. I have to figure myself out. That is I have to do. That's it. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You're cute when you smile," That was not figuring yourself out, Alex.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Aww, thank you," The world was blessed with that smile of his yet, again. His breathing came out in stutters; he was doing that silent giggling thing, where you are desperately trying to catch your  breath  but you could not stop laughing. As he, finally, calmed, he replied.  "I would say that you're cute, however I would be lying because you're more beautiful than the morning sun over Mount Wachusett," A pause. An 'oh shit, sorry'. And a set of cold, grey eyes being flung towards the floor.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What are you sorry for?" I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him. Why do I want to kiss him? Because I do. I want to kiss someone who is practically a stranger. I am rockin' life right now.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You were obviously waiting for someone important. I should not be flirting with you. It's selfish," His eyes were still on the floor. His pitch becoming quieter and quieter and quieter; his last word the becoming the twang of a golden lyre. Suddenly, I could picture him as Achilles, head hung over his lyre, playing songs for his beloved though I doubt he could ever be so cruel as to call his lover a silly girl for caring about other Greeks, or letting someone else risk their life for his honor, or to stay in a tent while his friends and allies died on the battlefield. I once tried learning Greek, it did not work out.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You call that flirtin'?" My tone was amicable; my smile was  bright. I desperately wanted the conversation to go back to its comfortable banter.  I wanted him to laugh. I wanted to stare into his grave-stone eyes. One single lock of hair fell in front of his face, I nearly tucked it behind his ears for him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I'll flirt with you properly after we order the weirdest dish on the menu," He rested his elbow on the table, and tucked his hand under his chin, flashing a mischievous smirk. This was going to be a fun night.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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